


Cat-blocking

by watolock (lannisterz)



Category: Miss Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Case? What Case?, Chinese Translation Available, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, I just can't title, Sherlock the Tsundere, domestic!Watolock is the reason i live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 11:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14736414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannisterz/pseuds/watolock
Summary: The Great Treaty of Living with Sherlock did not mention anything about pets.





	Cat-blocking

**Author's Note:**

> Chinese translation available here by @Teufelsbraten: http://teufelsbraten.lofter.com/post/1f854adf_ee86309e

"No."

Wato chuckled as Sherlock pulled the dressing gown tighter around herself, turning so abruptly that she almost knocked over a jar full of dubious, potentially highly toxic yellow liquid on the floor. Managing to salvage some grace only at the very last moment, Sherlock spun around to glare at Wato from her corner next to the couch. It was the kind of glare that would normally intimidate the hell out of Wato  _and_ send curls of warmth through the pit of her stomach, but today it was lacking a bit of heat.

Not because Sherlock was wrapped in a dressing gown that was slowly falling over one shoulder and sporting a Harry Potter-level case of bedhead. No, though Wato filed that image away for future, um, reference, it was not what made the glare so adorable.

It was the little claws pulling the silk down Sherlock's arm.

"No."

Wato laughed again and took one step forward, reaching out to beckon the kitten to her. He unlodged himself from Sherlock's dressing gown and launched at Wato in a flash of grey. She flopped down to the floor in a fit of giggles as the kitten nudged at her palm, then jumped onto her shoulder to tickle her face.

Now crouched on the couch a meter away, Sherlock didn't seem so amused. Her legs were folded up in her usual fetal position, and the dressing gown was wrapped all the way around her. The hem of the undoubtedly ultra-designer, worth-Wato's-entire-wardrobe gown was beginning to fray, the golden pattern a bit jagged. Sherlock let out a huge, annoyed huff as soon as she noticed this, before turning her criminal-slaying gaze back to the ball of fur on Wato's arm.

Wato caught her eyes and held them.

"Sorry about that, but it's just a kitten, Sherlock! He wants to get to know you!"

Sherlock looked away and gave a sarcastic laugh.

"It's already a little devil."

 _Bit rich coming from you, you big devil,_  Wato thought, deciding to change strategy. Turning her best doe eyes on Sherlock, she pitched her voice as sweetly as possible.

"But he's so cute! I saw him at the shelter I was volunteering at, and..."

"And you immediately felt a connection, wanted to give him a home, yada yada. Heard all that before. Why are you even working at a shelter? You keep pulling down your sleeves to hide the scratches. That ugly button-down is not really helping with my sanity."

It was Wato's turn to glare. 

"No need to be rude. And I just want to feel useful, that's all."

"Who said you're not... Oh, dammit. Didn't my rules say that no pets are allowed?

Wato's smile turned beatific.

"No, they didn't."

* * *

 Sherlock couldn't believe this. Of all the Great, Many, Important Things she'd put on the list from her incredible brain capacity that contained the entire table of elements and all of their various compounds and all of _their_  possiblereactions, she'd somehow forgotten about Wato's tendency to get attached to dark-haired, lonely, lost things with possible family and commitment issues.

(Now, that sounded kind of familiar.)

Her point stood though, that this ... feline was going to be a menace. Just looking at the little puff's face next to Wato's, with their identical round, hopeful gaze, was enough to give her a headache. Of course she wouldn't stand by and watch as the little devil took all of Wato's time and attention which should be on their cases.

So Sherlock put her foot down.

Literally. She put her feet down onto the floor - already littered with little grey hairs  _goddammit_ \- and stood up, and looked straight into Wato's eyes. 

"It stays, I go. Choose."

* * *

 Wato only managed to be worried for about ten minutes after Sherlock'd grabbed her coat and stomped out the door with a promise never to come back as long as the kitten was in the room. Mrs. Hatano shrugged it off as she filled Wato's rice bowl for her at dinner.

"Betcha she's going to be back early tomorrow. Can't miss your morning coffee."

Sherlock trying to be stealthy was a funny sight. And she had had the galls to laugh at Wato for being indiscreet. Her presence filled the room as soon as she walked in, squeezing through stacks of books and wobbly tables piled with chemicals to get to the coffee pot, only to find it wasn't there. Wato peeked out from under the blanket on the couch for only a moment, before grabbing the pot from behind the couch and tapping on the nape of her grumpy roommate. 

Sherlock's squeak made the kitten jump from his sleeping spot.

She blamed her unusual tactlessness on the lack of Wato-made coffee.

* * *

If the new arrangements annoyed Sherlock, she was only showing precisely 12 percent of the annoyance.

Or that was what she thought.

While Wato was struggling with bringing in the cat tree and finding a spot for the little pillow, Sherlock sat resolutely at the computer doing Sciency Things. They were between cases at the moment, as if the clients, the Metropolitan Police, and the universe itself had conspired with the little evil creature to direct all of Wato's attention into creating a cat-shaped space in their lives rather than doing something more worthwhile. 

Like talking at Sherlock. Or eating with Sherlock. Or walking around the city with Sherlock.

It was completely illogical.

And this cat was also illogical. It was irrationally happy every time Sherlock as much as came near it. Grabbing at her pant legs, nudging her fiddling fingers. Couldn't it see that there was nothing between them but resentment, animosity, and other hostile multi-syllable words? That all she wanted was to grab its savior's shoulders and kis- and shake some sense into her, show her that Sherlock and cheerful, affectionate, furry baby animals that liked to cuddle could never coexist in the same space?

When Sherlock expressed something to this effect, Wato only laughed at her. Wato had been laughing at her at an alarming rate. Sherlock couldn't logically explain why she didn't abhor it.

"Come on, Koi really likes you! It's obvious! He is trying to get along with you!"

"It just doesn't wor... What did you just call it?"

A beat passed as pink slowly spread over Wato's dimpled cheeks.

"Um. Koi. As in. Um. The fish? That you like? I thought..."

Another beat passed as Wato found herself standing toe-to-toe with a stunningly silent Sherlock. The pattern of her dress suddenly seemed utterly fascinating.

"Really, Tachibana Wato. Only you would name a cat after a kind of fish."

Wato's indignant protest was swallowed up by Sherlock's lips. 

Gasping and panting as they broke apart after what felt like a really long dive into warm, beautiful water, Wato got to gaze into Sherlock's eyes for only a second before Koi began swirling around their feet. For the first time, Wato profoundly identified with Sherlock's grumpiness about their new pet. 

"Their" now.

Suddenly giddy, Wato pulled Sherlock down by the collar for another kiss. Or five. At least the smooth, slender hand cupping the back of her neck wasn't trying to put a tracking device on her this time around. Instead, it was doing other potentially criminal things to her nerve endings, but Wato really couldn't complain.

* * *

 Sherlock cracked one eye open to find a shock of long, black hair stuffed up her nose. She was, rather undignifiedly, wrapped around Wato like an octopus, but she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment. Trying to stretch surreptitiously hardly worked when you had basically surrendered your left arm for another to use as a pillow, but Sherlock soon found herself looking at the kitten perched on the back of the couch, staring at them with his big content yellow eyes.

Sherlock smirked at him and settled right back in to sleep, enjoying Wato's warm breath on her collarbone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This show has done it. After literally years of no creative writing of any shape or form, fic or not, this ship has turned me back into my fanfic-writing ways, besides ruining my life in all other manners as well. This is just a funny little thing I thought of after reading @wato-locke's headcanon on Tumblr, featuring Watolock and a cat, and somehow it got a little longer than expected. 
> 
> I was inspired to name the cat Koi because Sherlock was so adorably distracted by them last episode, and also, as Tumblr friend @legacy_of_the_westside_prince pointed out, the word is a homonym for "love" in Japanese. Wato can be sneaky, too ;) 
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed this! I can't promise to write much more, but I really do love them and they are the first ship that have inspired me enough to write in six years, so let's pray the magic keeps up.


End file.
